|GM Noble Deed|
The meeting with your informant was set. You ventured deep into the catacombs of the castle with a pair of you most trusted guards. Impatiently you waited for the man and paced the room. Then there was a flash and then smoke. You watched as your cards were overcome by some form of gas. You headed for the exit but the room began to spin and you fell the floor.
The last thing you remembered was the sound of your cousin’s voices. “Now we can move on with our plans.”
Later you woke once and found yourself bound and gagged. You heard your captive talking about you. They knew who you were and they were taking you to someone for a price. After that you blacked out again.
The short young woman leapt to her feet upon regaining consciousness, and then almost immediately lost her footing and crashed back to the ground on her rump with an "OW!" Dejected, she begins looking around the room for an exit.
A cute young man,or older boy depending on your culture, with blond curly hair and eyes blue as a cloudless sky bolts upright. Seeing the clumsy step of cute young woman he rushes to her aid.
"Are you all right." he says concern oozing from every word as he sets a comforting hand on her shoulder.
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (16) + 9 = 25
Alexandra held her head as her vision began to clear. She half saw an exchange between two young adults that made her dismiss them almost immediately.
That was, however, until she realized what had happened and the situation she was in.
Standing slowly, with as much royal finesse as she could, she brushed the dirt and dust from her noble attire. The thicker materials, designed for the royals of her winter home, were doing their job in keeping out the cold from the stone floor.
One other person lay still unconscious, the four of them seeming to be in the same predicament. Though nothing was ever as it seemed, especially when the last thing she remembered were the voices of her cousins and anything involving them was almost never what it first appeared.
"It seems we four have found ourselves in the hands of enemies. My name is Alexandra and I hope we can work together to get out of here, wherever here is."
She looks around the platform, squinting slightly into the darkness but she could make out nothing.
"Pray, what are your names? Where do you hail from? Do you have any memory of how you came to be here?"
Alexandra knew she would need help, and she always preferred to know who she was working with.
Perception: 1d20 ⇒ 6
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (10) + 5 = 15
"My name is Amelia Wil Tesla Selruun, but you can call me Amelia. I am from the nation of Selruun, beacon of justice and peace. As to how I got here, the last thing I remember is heading home with a present for my father and then I woke up here."
The young man introduces himself"I am Iraonar Dynisius third prince of the beautiful land of Aria."and continues in a regretful tone "I am sorry to put a hole in your theory Princess Volkonskaya, but I have no enemies to speak of."
After a second of over dramatic contemplation he says "I remember that I was at a party and admittedly may have had a little to much wine. A couple of beautiful young ladies wished to show me some of there art at there place. Next thing I know a man ambushes me with a positively grotesque smelling rag. Then I fell asleep. For a second he poses seeming to suddenly grasp something. "You know I got the feeling something was wrong but at the time I thought they were just trying to take advantage of me. ladies often do that when they see me with wine. But I remember a few bills changing hands between the ladies and a gruff looking fellow."He then theorizes "My older brother Xirkzes always said he would get me into one of those puzzle rooms you must escape from. There all the rage among the counts of Skylight you know. But to have such prestigious guests as a prince of Aria, a princess of Zamorozhenny, and of Selruun, and I now would assume is a prince of Thoreand given his dress. This must be quite the elaborate game.
Alexandra's eyes narrow at the young
"I don't recall telling you that information, Prince Dynisius. You seem to know a lot about me when I only just learnt about you. But thank you for revealing my identity and country of origin to complete strangers. Do you have any more information about me you would like to tell everyone, or am I allowed some privacy throughout this ordeal?"
So much for keeping my distance. At least I know who not to tell anything to. I'm surprised the boy isn't already dead with how completely loose they are with information.
Alexandra turn away to compose herself, not needing to feign that she was upset.
"Let's shed a little more light on our situation, shall we?" and as she spoke, she began signing the spell before a final spoken word conjured four floating orbs of light, each emitting the light of a single lantern.
She cautiously began pushing them to find the edge of the platform, and more about their surroundings.
No point keeping secrets if they hamper progress. Someone needs to do something.
Cast Dancing Lanterns
Leaning haphazardly against the wall, Daubeny's first burst of consciousness comes from a series of distant voices. A large man, both in height and bulk, his closely shaved head did little to mark the wear and tear of numerous fights. Rubbing his eyes with his calloused hand, the large warrior stands to look over his cell with cold grey eyes. Strange, when I heard of the price on my head I assumed it would have led to an execution at the hand of a bandit lord.
At the mention of being a prince, the knight snorted. "Daubeny Threcken, fourth son of Lord Commander Threcken, knight of the Order of the Orchid, prince in name perhaps." A frown appearing at the remembrance of his capture. " Assault gone wrong, last man standing." His words are clip, and short, giving the impression he has not had a true conversation in some time.
Moving towards the edge of the platform, Daubeny begins to move and loosen his joints. "Captors sold me." His tone spoke of violence towards those whoever considered themselves his owner.
"It's okay. I'm sure he didn't mean any harm by it Princess Volkonskaya. I can't speak for the rest of you, but I know that I had to study the history and geneology of various nations as part of my education." says Amelia.
"As did I, Alexandra said airily, more focused on what her dancing lights were revealing "I was also taught that the less people know, the easier it is to play the games of a Royal Court. So, while I do love my station and title, I introduced myself as Alexandra. Do address me as such. When I want everything about me announced, I'll let you both know."
She gazes around at the newly illuminated area, trying to find anything that might give away their location, or a way out.
Perception (with lanterns): 1d20 ⇒ 14
"I am truly sorry your Highness, but between your Name and a beauty that puts the havens to shame it seemed rather obvious who you were. You have made quite a name for yourself among the bards of many courts I visited up north, or south from your perspective.Iraonar says to Alexandra.
Then he turns to Daubeny "It is a pleasure to meet you your Highness Sir.Daubeny. Are you hurt at all from your battle?
Well, at least someone here has played the games. All the better that I need not be caught up in that maelstrom of egos and double talk. At Iraonar's question, Daubeny shakes his head. "Nothing serious." As the knight kneels down to inspect the edge he adds, "Not a prince. Don't bother with the title. Knight first."
|GM Noble Deed|
Alexandra's dancing lights show that it is 100 feet to the ground below and that the floor is lettered with bones and debris. As she moves the lights around the room the falls are still out of sight. As she moves the lights in a circle around the platform the suddenly wink out.
Suddenly another body appears on the platform and a young man begins to wake up.
A noise that sounds like bones rubbing on bones draws all of your attention.
A booming voice in the dark say, "I see that my new minions are now awake."
At the girl's enthusiastic declaration of justice, the knight gives a nod. "Yes" Glancing over the edge, Daubeny takes a good look at the bones. Should have known better than to expect an easy way out.
At the sudden loss of light the Thoreand native whirls about, ready to fight. The deafening voice's proclamation earns a vicious snarl, and a roared, "Minions?"
"Perhaps it would be better to hold any hostile actions. They have the upper hand, and we are currently without weapons or armor, nor any clear way out. We to be strategic, not brash."
Alexandra whispers to Sir Daubeny, trying to keep them out off a physical confrontation. The fact her lights went out meant some kind of antimagic field was in place, or that the new arrival disrupted her arcane power.
Testing the waters, she cast dancing lights again, ready to observe whay happened to them.
Knowledge (arcana): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (11) + 6 = 17
Regardless, she didn't want to get on the bad side of whoever or whatever was pulling the strings.
"Speaking of titles, what name do we call our new master?"
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (17) + 5 = 22
Cast Dancing Lights
Tense and ready to fight, Daubeny whispers quietly in response, "Indeed, while we are weak I leave you and the others to the task. Once we are armed however, I shall not endure such arrogance."
Crossing his arms, the knight eyes the prone body. "Another royal?"
Perception-I spy: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (18) + 1 = 19
"Wait, so those men weren't sent by my brother? I should have known. They completely forgot my instruments."Iraonar says to himself as much as anybody.
He turns to the darkness and apologies "I'm sorry I seem to be without my harp or pan flute. Its been years sense I sang or even practiced singing, and this macabre stage has terrible acoustics. I don't think I will at all be able to preform for you."
"I'll tell you what good sir."He proposes, "Tell me your preference in music, send me home to fetch my Harp, and give me a good week to prepare. Then come to the royal theater of Aria. I will give you a performance to make thunder!"thunder is thought by Arians to be the clapping of the gods and lightning to be there confetti. to make thunder is to impress the gods. to make lightning is to make them celebrate.
futile Diplomacy: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (7) + 9 = 16
Wait! Hold up A tall, thin man, trips over his own feet as he rushes down the hallway after the rest.
I heard you talking, and it seems like you all are royals too? I'm Lysander. ... uh, Higgens., he stutters out as he catches up with the rest. Of the Wetenschap Higgenses A concerned look covers his face, as he looks around, inspecting the ceiling and walls, trying to ferret out where the voice is coming from.
Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4
He begins rummaging around in the many pockets of his cloak, rearranging the contents from one pocket to the next, not actually looking at them, instead keeping his focus on his surroundings. ...of course, my older brother is the one people usually pay attention to. I'm just the one who makes things work.
He shrugs an looks towards an arbitrary point in the darkness, and exclaims Hi, I'm probably not the brother you're looking for. I'm not much of a minion, and I don't have any claim to the throne. If you want an efficiently run farm or, uh, port, or maybe even an apiary, though, I can offer plenty of advice.
|GM Noble Deed|
You wake to find yourself a stone floor. As you sit up you see others around you who seem to also be waking up.A single lamp post is between you casting light out 30 feet. Beyond that all is in darkness. The light shows that you seem to be on a 20 foot round platform.
Don't run too far Lysander
|GM Noble Deed|
Another laugh comes from the darkness, "I do not need your services as a musician Prince Dynisius."
Lights flare and another platforms appears 50 feet away. Upon this platforms sits a colossal skeleton of a dragon. As you watch it moves its head in your direction.
"My original name was lost eons ago when the world was young. You may call Vix'thimus. I have a proposition for you. You have all been brought here because you have royal blood in your veins. I need you to acquire 5 gems. These gems can only be touched by those with royal blood. Bring me these gems and I will release you from my service. You will also receive a one tenth of my treasure horde."
Glancing at Lysander, Daubeny holds out a hand near the edge. "Careful." Glancing around, the knight nods. "All royals. Mighty brave."
The appearance of the dragon sets the warrior on edge. No wonder such bravado was displayed. The might of the dead combined with the cunning of a dragon is a dangerous combo. Cautiously, he asks, "What about our gear?"
Diplo-: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 = 6
Pausing as if about to ask a question, the large knight stifles whatever question was on his tongue and simply nods. Such blatant antithesis to the way of fate and the natural cycle. It is best I not speak, and reveal my mind's path.
Lysander notices how very close to the edge of the platform he is, and steps back a few, trying to gaze into the darkness below.
Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (17) + 3 = 20
He turns to face his captor, and raises a finger as though to speak, pauses, and lowers it again, with a discontented look on his face.
I respectfully decline. he ends up stating calmly. Clearly, these are some potent wards, if the easiest workaround is to kidnap the scions of five royal families.
He shrugs, then takes a deep breath and quickly expands on his reasoning: It doesn't much matter what these gems do. Clearly it's something that somebody wants to limit to royals. Judging by the fact that you aren't doing it yourself, means that you aren't some undead dragon noble, (if such a thing could even exist), so you don't have any right to the gems in the first place. Beyond that (although that should be enough on its own), you haven't presented the gems to us yet, which makes me doubt that you even have them in your possession (ill-gotten though they would be), which means that you intend to send us to go fetch them for you. And that is a waste of all of our time (except for yours, of course, I was referring to us, the ones who have been taken from our normal lives). Indeed, I do not intend to let you take me away from my duties to Wetenschap for a moment longer than you already have.
He inhales again, and slowly this time: So, If you would let me go so that I can return home, I can offer some recommendations as to a few royal families with more children than morals, who would gladly trade a few for a modest sum.
Diplomacy: 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (8) - 2 = 6
"Wait, you want the gems to be in the hands of nobles who are from familes that would sell there own kids."asks Iraonar. He then says without waiting for a reply,"I'm not sure giving the gems to people from such dubeus backrounds, however royal, is such a good idea."
Alexandra looked at the two blabbering men.
"Allow me to recap and clarify. Master Vix'thimus wishes for us to venture out and bring him back 5 gems which can only be touched by those of royal lineage.
So he clearly doesn't have them, nor will they be remaining in our possession.
Furthermore, in case you haven't already observed, as you just got here, we aren't exactly in a position to be making demands. Minions was only used as it more favorable a term than slave, so we can assume that the latter's rights and freedoms are now applicable to us."
I am not being killed by an undead dragon in some unknown place because of these people. There are times for demands and times for obliging.
"Please forgive us for wasting so much of your time, Matter Vix'thimus. As Prince Dynisius earlier requested, please tell more about the gems.
Perhaps the gentlemen would be in a more listening mood with their armor and weapons. Men do love feeling powerful and I'm sure we'd all be very grateful to you for the return of our possessions. An undeserved show of good faith."
She had worked her magic on the highest and lowest in her country and across many lands. Alexandra, however, had never even seen a dragon in the flesh before. Maybe the flesh was lacking, but none the less she just hoped that she was taking the right approach in the 'faith servant'.
There was a limit to her submission, but if this was all it took to not be killed by a dragon then she would dance that dance as only the Princess of Zamorozhenny could.
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (11) + 5 = 16
|GM Noble Deed|
Vix'thimus responds, "You seem to have a grasp on the situation. The gems are part of the Crown of Life. I tire of this undeath. With the crown I can one again live and enjoy the finer things of life. The taste of flesh, the wind across my scales, and the scent of greenery. The crown was stolen and dismantled long ago. I have recently divined the location of one of the gems. Once I have it I will be able to discover the location of the other gems.
"When I have all of the gems, you will be set free and rewarded with enough coin to do almost anything you wish. Get revenge on those who sold you to me, buy your own kingdom, build grand theaters for you to perform in, or go on a grand campaign for Justice."
Watching the draconian skeleton cautiously, Daubeny glances at his fellows. I don't know if I'd trust them for an assault, but for what this creature asks it seems feasible. In a empty tone, the warrior asks, "Where is this gem? What about the rest of the crown?"Information is the key to battle. Strength may bruteforce the lock, but it's always easier to take the gate to victory.
Meanwhile, the knight murmurs quietly, "Strange times indeed."
|GM Noble Deed|
"That information has been lost in time. All I was able to deduce was that someone had it and then it was stolen, broken apart, and scattered to prevent its abuse."
"The first gem can be found in a tower on a vast battlefield outside a great city. The tower has been sealed for hundreds of year but recent events have opened it. I will send you there. Find the gem and I will bring you back."
With that you suddenly feel dizzy and a wave of nausea hits you. Everything goes black for a few seconds and then you are blinded by the sun as you find yourselves lying in the dirt. As you get up you feel a sharp pain on the inside of your left forearm. You look to see that there is a tattoo of a dragons skull now there. As you look at it closer it blinks and then says, "We are now connected so that I may watch your progress."
As you stand up you see that all of your gear is next to you in a pile. You find that your backpacks have been replaced with a new one that is embroidered with the logo of a dragons skull. As you examine them you find that they are Handy Haversacks.
The ruined siege castle rises out of the churned earth. No doors or windows mar the otherwise smooth expanse of the tower’s walls. The tower is quatrefoil in plan; its eastern wing has largely collapsed, exposing the interior floors to the open air. Only the topmost level seems whole, though its eastern portion hangs precariously over the mountain of rubble left by the collapse. At ground level, the rubble frames a gaping hole in the side of the building that provides access to the tower’s darkened interior.
|GM Noble Deed|
I use google drive for my maps. The link is by my name. When you try it for the first time it will tell you that you need permission to enter the file so just send the request and I will grant you the permission. The map will be read only for you. I will move the characters around per your instructions.
Covering his eyes with his newly tattooed forearm, Daubeny sighs. Glancing at his gear, the large man quickly checks that all his heirlooms are present. Lifting the glossy green bardiche, the knight finds his war helm. Holding the helmet engraved with a blossoming rose atop crossed blades, he quietly asks, "Help please," while gesturing to the pile of plate and chainmail.
I'm assuming it's daylight as our human characters can see all this?
Alexandra for the second time that day gets up of the ground and brushes of the dirt. A tinge in her arm makes her notice the tattoo, and she pulls her long sleeve back over it after inspection.
Knowledge (arcana): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (7) + 6 = 13
Upon noticing their equipment, she quickly finds her bag, pulling on her warmer over coat and family ring, before brushing her hair and inspecting herself in the tiny mirror.
Looking over, she looks at the pile of armor Daubeny is pointing towards.
"I'm sure Amelia can help you with that. I would but even if I could lift it I've no idea how to help you put it on I'm afraid."
Instead, she focuses on the structure in front of them.
Ominous, looming ruins. Surely this would make a good tale. Prince Dynisius must be thrilled.
As he wakes up Iraonar pulls from his bag a green parasol with an ivory stem, and gold handle with three inlaid Jadeite stones. as he stands he asks "Wait, were did I get my parasol?"He only then gets up and seems to notice the bag in his other hand.
At first as the dragon speaks Iraonar screams shrilly. Then as he regains his composure he speaks to the dragon, holding up his arm to look into the dragon tattoos inky black eyes."Thank you for getting some of my things from back home. You must be quite the magician to pull that off without a fuss, not to mention getting us here. Thank you also for the cool new bag and awesome tattoo. Not really my style but they look nice all the same. Please would you be so kind as to tell me were the forth wall is? I feel kind of awkward talking to my arm."
As he waits for a reply he grabs a blank journal and some ink and chronicles all he senses. His face is riddled with care free wonder as he dose so.
Shrugging, the knight looks at the enthusiastic young woman he was now to journey with. "I can show you, I just can't do it properly by only myself."
"My father will not approve!" she says as she finds the tattoo on her arm. "I am the daughter of the crown prince, not a sailor!"
This goes on for a bit until she is interrupted by Daubeny's request for help. Moving over, she helps him put on his armor, then dons her own as well.
Standing proud and armored, Daubeny adjusts the cestus on his newly tattooed arm. Picking up his Thorn, the large man smiles beneath his armored helm. "Thanks." Giving Amelia a quick bow of his head, the knight opens the book, slightly worn but obviously very well cared for, attached to his armor. Thus the energy developed by good fighting men is as the momentum of a round stone rolled down a mountain thousands of feet in height. The Thoreand warrior pauses, glancing at the ruined battlements. Our momentum must be swift and ferocious.
Leaning on the shaft of his bardiche, Daubeny asks, "Plan?"
Indeed I would favor a plan. The nature of these new subdermal decorations is troubling. Further, our dearth of information regarding the most efficient ingresses and egresses of this structure or what we may expect inside leaves me extremely hesitant to venture inside. Information must be gathered. I am somewhat possessed of the means of stealth and exploration.
After re-equipping himself and discovering, much to his fascination, the properties of his new handy haversack, Lysander rearranges some of his gear into the incredibly useful sack and creeps towards the whole.
Knowledge Arcana about the functioning of the tattoos: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (1) + 9 = 10
Stealth: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (20) + 8 = 28
Perception to peer inside: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (8) + 3 = 11